Reforged: the Shanxi campaign
by BSG Legacy
Summary: Twelve years after the end of the Cylon War, colonial forces have started to explore again, this time aided by a mysterious relay.
1. Chapter 1: Survey

**Battlestar _Galactica_(BS-75) CIC  
Tellurias System, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Transit complete, coming off the relay" said Lieutenant Durrant, an almost audible sigh fringing the Tactical Officer's otherwise calm voice, "Boards are green...no damage."

Commander Steven Hackett nodded, flexing his knees slightly as the massive Battlestar was hurled out of the relay's area of effect. The jolt was at once smoother and far more jarring than conventional FTL drives. But, if you needed to get somewhere fast, the relays were the only way to go.

"Drift?" called Hackett, his steel-blue eyes glued to the dradis tower.

"Just under forty-two hundred K."

"Good," said Hackett. Such accuracy from two technologies never meant to work together was astonishing. "What about our escorts?" he added, feeling his heart rate speed up every second he couldn't see his fellow ships.

Hackett knew such apprehensions were unfounded. Ever since the first relay had been dug out of the churning storms of Ragnar almost ten years ago, transit by relay had become almost routine

Still, Hackett was old-school military. He didn't completely trust anything he didn't understand, especially mile-long tuning-forks somehow invisible to dradis.

"Sir, _Parthanaxx_ and _Freya_ report in," said Durrant. Two contacts resolved themselves, creeping out of the dwindling cloud of interferences the relay spun down. "They got a little scattered in the jump but they're okay."

Hackett nodded, "Tell them to form up alongside us and launch the CAP. Doctor Mayfield," he turned to face the astronomer, "What are we looking at?"

A pudgy man looked up from a bank of consoles squeezed into a CIC cranny. "Uh... fairly standard stellar configuration, eight planets that I can see, five gaseous, three terrestrial..."

Hackett raised a hand as he neared, instantly silencing the scientist, "Anything that could support life?"

"It's... not apparent," said Mayfield, wiping his glasses on his impossibly loud shirt, "_maybe_ something we can kobolform, but beyond that... nothing of note."

"Alright, Durrant, stand down to condition three," said Hackett, striding back to the center of the CIC, "Launch red team, I want our raptors on standard astronomical survey. See if there's anything mining crews would find interesting."

"Aye, sir," said Durrant, turning to his board.

"Mayfield, any evidence of artifacts in this system?"

"Um... no," said Mayfield, looking eagerly at the Commander, "Well, besides the relay we just used, I don't think there's _anything_ here."

**Turian Scout frigate _Shoval _CIC  
Sixth planet, Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Spirits, they'll never believe this," muttered Specialist Aavron Darctas. The young turian danced his scrawny claws over his board. Three ships, unlike any he'd seen before... three _dreadnaughts_ just exited the relay. "Conn!" be barked, hearing his voice crack harshly, "Conn, you need to see this!"

"What is it?" droned Major Polara Trevola as she strode over, her wide, spiny hips swaying in the manner Darctas found so seductive. But not this time. Right now, he was scared senseless by the image on his board.

"Ma'am, Three contacts direct front," He raised a quivering claw at the screen, "They're dreadnaughts. Big ones."

Trevola leaned into the screen, her mandibles flickering in confusion. "Wake the captain," she finally said.

**Battlestar _Galactica_ (BS-75) port-side hanger bay  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta nebula**

"Morning, Husker, what do you hear?" asked Ensign Leyandra "Orange" Chang.

"Nothing but the rain," grunted back the craggy Viper jock in question, Lieutenant William Adama.

"Then grab your gun and bring the cat in," smiled Orange, pulling her short ginger hair out of her collar and grabbing her helmet. "Great day to fly, eh?" she said, a smile spreading over her chubby, freckle-slathered cheeks.

"You always this positive?" growled Husker, powering up the ladder to his Viper.

"Nah, just when you aren't," Said Orange, checking her suit seal, "See you in the black."

Husker tossed a wave to her as ground crews wheeled the Raptor the elevator. As for him, he focused on getting his helmet on and doing his final preflight.

Tossing his canopy back, Husker pounded the locking claps with his palms, and gave the bracing a quick shove, just to ensure it was properly sealed.

Below him, ground crews too finalized their drills and scurried out of the airlock. There was the subtle rush of evacuated air, then... nothing but the hum of his idling engines.

"_Viper 1104 clear forward,"_ came the scratchy announcement of the Cat Boss, _"Navcon green."_

Husker leaned back in his acceleration chair, bracing his head for the cat-shot.

"_Intervals check... thrust positive. Husker, prepare to Launch." _

**Turian Scout frigate _Shoval _CIC  
Sixth planet, Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"This had better be important," growled Commander Acustas Kaliar as he stormed into the CIC, a steaming mug of pungent tea in one hand. He _hated_ getting up early, but he was still a turian. He'd do his duty till the day he died. Strong tea helped.

"It is, sir," said Major Trevola, wrinkling her nose as she smelled her CO's beverage of choice, "Three ships just entered the system. Dreadnaughts by the like of it. We currently stand at full action alert."

Kaliar nodded. "Disposition of enemy force," he demanded, taking a sip of steaming tea.

"They've been running recon patrols for the past half hour," said Trevola, calling up a new display on the central holo-display. "each of the dreadnaughts have taken separate vectors, and all are launching three-plane scout elements."

With a wave, she brought an image of two dagger-like craft escorting a single large shuttle. "Best guess: the smaller craft are fighters, the larger is a scout bird of some kind."

"Have we been compromised?" asked Kaliar, leaning forwards against a railing, "or the FOB?" Tellurias housed the headquarters of the turian outer-rim scout flotilla. If they were compromised, the union could be cut in half.

"No sir, They don't seem to have noticed us," said Tevola, allying the worst of his fears, "I... think they're just doing mineral surveys."

"With dreadnaughts?" said Kailar, turning his attention to less imminently pressing matters now that_ Shoval_ was, for the moment, safe, "Do we have any idea who they are?"

Tevola raised her arms in defeat, her mandibles flitting wider, "No idea. They're not citadel, the quarians never went out this far, and the layout doesn't match batarian design philosophy."

"There's something else," said Darctas, finding the courage to speak up, "I'm getting... really bizarre eezo signatures."

"Bizarre?"

"Yes sir, they're... tiny," Darctas called up an image of the largest dreadnaught, "That ship's bigger than almost anything I've seen, but there's less eezo in it than one of our frigates."

"What?" demanded Kailar, his mandibles flickering as he tried to process that information.

"Best guess, they've got artificial gravity and some kind of inertial dampening, but..." Darctas glanced at his CO, "There's no way that ship could go FTL. Not according to any laws of physics we know about."

"Other than that," interjected Tevola, "They seem remarkably primitive. Based on their flight patters, I don't think they even have autopilots."

"That may be," said Kailar gruffly, "But the fact remains, who ever these people are, they sent three-dreadnaughts on a _mining survey_. I'd hate to see how they fight."

Tevola raised a plate over her eye The gesture,was a very XO-ish way of asking what to do without compromising the Commander's air of infallibility.

"Alright," said Kailar, grabbing his tea as he began to stalk around the CIC, "Comms, send a databurst to headquarters with everything we've observed. I don't want to make a first-contact call without the rest of the fleet backing me."

"Aye, Conn," said a tiny woman strapped into an acceleration couch.

"XO," Said Kailar, drawing up beside Tevola, "Go to full combat alert and remove all firing safeties."

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Hey, readers. As you may or may not know, this is a fusion fic, expect the occasional appearance of both ME-Cannon and BSG-Cannon characters to show up.

However, to smooth over ripples in the cannon welding, I did tweak a few things (I'll explain relevant changes as I progress):

Colonial ships use hull codes, not Group numbers (why _Galactica_ is BS-75, not BS**G**-75)

Colonial ships have inertial dampeners. I'm not sure if its spelled out either way in cannon, but they do here.

Colonial tech uses small quantities of Eezo in their artificial gravity and inertial dampening systems. But, the Colonial home-system is too Element-Zero poor for the construction of Mass-Effect style "brute-force" FTL.

Chronology wise, this takes place 12 years after the end of the First Cylon war, but 28 years _before_the events of Mass-Effect 1. (Hence why Hackett is just a Commander)

And just so I'm abundantly clear, for the colonials:** Earth does not exist as anything more than legend.**

Mass Effect and Battlestar Galactica copyrights of their respective owners


	2. Chapter 2: Contact

**Turian Scout frigate _Shoval _Briefing room  
Sixth planet, Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"_As I see it, there are two possibilities," _said General Septimus Oraka, the holographic avatar accentuating the already grave lines of his armored face.

"_Whoever these people are, they either know we're here and are hunting for us..." _He trailed off, a deep breath hissing through his segmented nose, _"Or we're facing a species that sends a full battle-group on simple surveys." _The general folded his arms across his deep blue uniform,_"I need options, people."_

"What if they're not hostile?" asked Commander Kailar, standing to enter the holo-transmitter's pickup "Our scans say these ships are very primitive, they might not even have FTL capacity," he waved over a photo-recon render of one of the alien ships. "They seem to be burning some sort of chemical fuel. Maybe the ships are that large just to store enough fuel?"

"_That may be,_" Growled Commander Vyrnnus, _"But the last primitive species to claw its way into space was the krogan."_

Kailar shook his head at this. Just like the pugnacious cruiser commander to bring up the krogan.

"_Enough,"_ said Oraka, his level voice instantly silencing the room, _"Commander Kailar, Commander Vyrnnus reports seeing the dreadnaughts launching small craft with performance on par with ours, can you confirm."_

"Yes, sir," said Kailar, "I'd say their planes are less agile than ours, but Commander Vhynus stands correct."

"_If their planes are equal to ours, that leads me to think their ships are as well,_" said the General, his frown growing graver, _"They may be less advanced, but they're still a threat, and they're definitely a militaristic species."_ He paused, taking a deep breath,_ "Our standing orders are to defend this system. Until those orders change, I intend to carry them out."_

A ragged chorus of acknowledgment sounded from the array of officers pleasant. True, the Tellurias scout flotilla had a dozen ships, but most were frigates or light cruisers, tackling dreadnaughts of any kind, much less the three monsters on screen, was an experience Kailar was not looking forwards too.

"_Alright, concept of operation,"_ said General Oraka, a holo of the system shimmering into view, _"The three dreadnaughts have split up, This one,"_ a red circle appeared around one of the smaller dreadnaughts, a dot marked Contact-Alpha, _"Is closest to our FOB, that'makes it our priority."_

Kailar leaned forwards, opening his dataslate for note taking, _"_Are we hitting them sequentially, sir?_"_

Oraka nodded,_ "Correct. We're not facing a ship like that with any less than our full strength. Now, It appears these aliens have no FTL comms systems," _said Oraka_,"and with their ships spread like this, it should take a few hours for a warning message to propagate."_

"_What about couriers?"_ asked Commander Vyrnnus, _"Or message torpedoes."_

"According to our scans, they don't have FTL drives," said Kailar, "No couriers ships. And even if they did..."

"_Help would still be hours away, minimum." _Said Commander Demtreva, the shapely female speaking for the first time this briefing.

Oraka nodded,_ "Still, Commander Kailar, I want your frigate team pulling picket duty. Intercept anything we may have missed."_

"_Sir,"_ said Demtreva, _"It seems we'll have plenty of time on station, might we try contacting them? They might not be hostile."_

"Even if they are," added Kailar, "It could give us a change to gather intel...learn about their military logic."

"_Agreed,"_ said Oraka, _"Vyrnnus, I want your cruiser on point have the rest of your squadron stand in reserve." _He glanced around at his gathered commanders,_ "Let me be clear, _nobody_ fires until fired upon." _the General clasped his hands behind his back, letting the weight of his order sink in. _"Gentlemen, Prepare your crews, operation begins in four hours."_

**Battlestar _Freya_ Viper 791  
Tellurias System, Phi Theta nebula**

Space was vast. Some would even say majestic. The interplay of unimaginably huge distances, impossibly large amounts of energy, incredibly vivid colors, it took one's breath away. Unless, that one had been sitting in a cramped Viper for the past four hours, orbiting the same Batttlestar, staring at the same inky splotch. _Fun._

"Raven_/_Bishop, you see anything?" grunted Captain Nathan "Bishop" Cobb.

"_Space?"_ came the expected sarcasm from his wingman, Lieutenant Leah "Raven" Black, _"Lots of space?"_

"Funny," deadpanned Bishop, rolling his Viper onto its belly, more to work some feeling into his legs than anything.

"_Oh, hey, a Comet. Ain't that just magical?"_ muttered Raven, trying and failing to slather happiness onto her grouchy voice. _"Wait... Bishop dradis shows it CBDR to _Freya_, closing at something like four C."_

"That's impossible, gotta be a glitch," Sighed Bishop, rolling his eyes. But, at least checking gave him something to do. _Frak_ he thought, _his_ dradis showed the contact closing at four times speed of light as well.

"_Freya/_Bishop," He yelped, his voice full of deadly earnest, "Be advised, unidentified dradis contact, closing at four C, can you confirm."

"_Bishop/_Freya,_ contact... confirmed?"_ the TAC sounded more confused than he did.

"It's gotta be an error," said Bishop, "Dradis got frakked-"

He was cut off when a massive metal something appeared before him, sunlight glistening off its manly layered armor plates.

"Raven, break vertical, now now now!" called Bishop, hauling his Viper into a hard turn to avoid collision. The ship, it had to be a ship, was big, he guessed better than half _Freya's_ length. With an angular, aggressive design and multitude of interleaving armor panels, it was unlike anything he'd seem before. The angles of its hull came together to a single cutting point nose, like a massive broadsword.

No doubt about it, this ship, whatever else it was, was a predator.

"Frak me, Freya_,_ you seeing this?"

**Turian Strike Cruiser frigate _Atticus CIC_  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Deceleration complete, drive core spooling down," called the pilot from his cranny in the nose of CIC.

"Multiple contacts, Dreadnaught and... two fighters. Possible other small craft hiding in the shadow."

Commander Vyrnnus nodded, "Send the transmission, standard first-contact package."

"Aye, Conn. Message in transit," said the Communications officer. The "handshake package" as it was known was a salarian invention. A series of Primes, math equations and the like, simple enough that anyone could understand them, but complex enough to show the receiver that the transmitter was intelligent and friendly.

That was the theory anyway, but Commander Vyrnnus never put much stock in salarian scientist. That's why his Boat was at full action alert.

**Battlestar _Freya_ (BS-94) CIC  
Tellurias System, Phi Theta nebula**

"Sir, we're receiving an datastream," said Specialist Aleandra Dumont , "Looks like a... first-contact package."

Commander Leah Raleigh nodded, her glance flitting from the dradis tower to the squadron status board. Hopping through the relay haddamaged _Freya's_ port-side catapult systems. Launching Vipers would take far to long if things got really hairy. "Mr. Allen, What's their disposition."

Her TAC took a quick glance at his board, "I'm reading thermal buildup, possibly weapons or engines charging, but for the moment they're just sitting there."

"Waiting for us to make the next move," muttered Colonel Claudia Marcus.

"Then we'll make it," said Raleigh, "Dumont, signal our reply." She walked over to Marcus. "Colonel, is Raptor 319 still airborne?" she asked, her voice low.

Marcus nodded, her tight ponytail bobbing slightly, "they broke off their final approach as soon as that thing showed up."

"Have them jump to _Galactica_ and call this in," said Raleigh, keeping her voice soft, as if the aliens could hear though hundreds of feet of steel and armor, "Make sure they stay in our dradis shadow."

**Turian Strike Cruiser frigate _Atticus CIC_  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Conn, receiving transition from contact-alpha," rattled off Specialist Thalia Etrucsa, "There was a large interference burst in the middle, but that might just be how their comms operate."

"Noted," said Vyrnnus, clamping his talons on the CIC railing, "How does their reply check out?"

"Running it now, Conn," said a young tech, his talons flying over his holo-displays.

"Scans, sitrep," growled Vyrnnus, looming over his crew as he stared at the main holo display, willing it to give up its secrets under his steely gaze.

"Contact fighters are backing off,"said Etrucsa, her voice cool and businesslike as always, " no inbound contacts resolving themselves."

Vyrnnus let his shoulders droop fractionally in relaxation. They might be militaristic, but at least this species seemed reasonable. "Contact General Oraka. Give him a sitrep and forward our sensor-" He was interrupted by a brilliant flash from the holotank. The dim CIC lighting flared and flickered, speakers squealed with feedback, and DC boards showed system over-volts though out the ship.

"What happened!" bellowed Vyrnnus, falling against a bulkhead as _Atticus_ lurched, "Did we hit something?"

"No sir!" snapped Etrucsa, her claws dancing over her controls as she fought to regain awareness, "massive spatial distortion, some kind of energy weapon. Sensors are still recovering."

"DC, how bad were we hit?" said Vyrnnus, collapsing into his acceleration couch and strapping in.

"FLIR is dead, over-volts and minimal fires throughout the ship, DC teams dispatched."

"_Meritrica!_" Yelped Etrucsa, her mandibles flaring as the obscenity slipped out, "New contact, Primary threat dreadnaught, nine-hundred K off the nose. They came out of nowhere, sir."

"Guns, lock in a firing solution," snapped Vyrnnus, his heart racing.

"Conn, I can't get solid lock, sensors are still messed up."

"Best guess, lock in ranging salvos, fire for effect!" snarled Vyrnnus, looming over his crew, "Comms, signal the rest of the fleet, we are engaging."

**Battlestar _Galactica_ (BS-75) CIC  
Tellurias System, Phi Theta nebula**

Commander Hackett felt _Galactica_ buck as hostile fire slammed into her blunt nose. "Damage report," he said, his gravely voice betraying only a hint of tautness.

"Scattered KEW hits," snapped Lieutenant Durrant, "superficial damage only."

Hackett gave a curt nod, "Enemy suppression batteries, switch to autofire, execute." He glanced to his XO, "Colonel Harper, launch the alert Vipers."

"Aye, sir," said Harper. As he turned to his console, _Galactica_ was rocked by a chain of explosions.

"Multiple hits port-side bow," reported Durrant, "Outer hulls have been penetrated. Fires and cascade decompression fore of frame ninety. I've lost partial yaw control."

"They've got our approach axis zeroed in," muttered Colonel Harper.

"Time to hit back," rumbled Hackett, "Main batteries, salvo fire, execute."

Across _Galactica's_ armored back, her gun batteries slid from their protected barrettes, massive cannon slewing on target. After a half-second delay as the turrets' dradis acquired the target and relayed the information to seekers imbedded in each round, all hell was unleashed.

Tyllium-fuled, dradis-guided rockets hurled from sixteen barrels almost simultaneously, joining the wall of fire that was _Galactica's_ flak screen. Some were swatted from the sky by the alien's active defense lasers, yet more were slapped aside by kinetic barriers, but not all. Those rounds that made it slammed home with pinpoint accuracy, their High-Explosive shaped charge warheads lancing through armor-plate with four-thousand degree liquid-tungsten spears.

**Turian Strike Cruiser frigate _Atticus CIC_  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Multiple hits forward," grunted Etrucsa, jostling in her seat as _Atticus _bucked from lines of shell impacts, "They're overwhelming our barriers-" Another jolt cut her off, "We've got fires in the fore thruster compartment."

"Seal off that section and decompress," barked Vyrnnus. Ideally, he'd have dispatched damage-control teams, but his crew was spread thin already. With all her advanced technology, _Atticus_ could stop almost every round fired against her, but these alien shells seemed designed to price space-time itself. _Atticus's _meter-thick composite armor, designed to deflect hyper-velocity sabot rounds, simply caved under the high-explosive shaped charges the aliens poured against it.

"Where are my GUARDIAN S?" barked Vyrnnus. The area-denial lasers should be doing _something_ to allay the seemingly endless barrage of warheads from the alien ships.

"Sir, GUARDIAN can't get a clean lock with all this flak in the air," said Etrucsa, her harness cutting into her shoulders as _Atticus_ took another salvo, "its swamping our sensors."

"Get our fighters in the air," barked Vyrnnus, hoping to get eyes outside of the shrapnel-cloud these aliens used for protection, "And get me a firing solution for our torpedoes."

"Solution locked in, Conn."

"Fire for effect," snapped Vyrnnus.

**Battlestar _Galactica_ (BS-75) CIC  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta nebula**

_Galactica _bucked as explosions raced down her flank. In the CIC, lights flickered and died. Hackett Felt his face slam into the planning board.

"Damage report," barked the commander, ignoring the blood oozing from a deep gash across his cheek.

"Direct hits, starboard aft," said Durrant, half-falling from his seat as _Galactica_ bucked from the explosions "Fires all along the starboard side."

"What were those, nukes?" said Harper, his icy-blue eyes boring into the TAC.

"Uh... radiological scans show negative," said Durrant, "It doesn't read like anything I've-" he was cut off by his dradis board, "Sir, hostile is launching fighters. Frak! more contacts, four additional ships."

"Sir, _Freya _reports she's got fires in her after magazine," blurted Specialist Hawkins, the communications chief's voice cracking just slightly, "She requests permission to disengage."

Hackett nodded, "Tell them to jump to fallback point Decon, we'll meet them there."

"Aye, sir. _Freya_ spinning FTL"

"Flight, bow down ten, right five. Put us between the _Freya_ and the hostile ships," growled Hackett , "Harper, Recall our birds. Spin the drive up and prepare a jump to position point Deacon."

**Turian Strike Cruiser frigate _Atticus CIC_  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta Nebula**

"Contact-Bravo maneuvering to shield Contact-Alpha," called Etrucsa, jostling in her seat as _Atticus_ took another punishing volley, "Sir, Bravo is recovering fighters."

Vyrnnus nodded, "Signal the rest of the fleet to close and attack. Flight, execute fallback plans." As much as he hated to say it, _Atticus_ needed to fall back, the cruiser had just had the crap kicked out of her.

"Conn/Flight," snapped the Pilot, "I have no motive power. Sir, we can't maneuver."

Vyrnnus growled in anger, he _hated_ being powerless, "Then route all power to the barriers. We'll have to sit this one out."

"Routing power- sir, Contact-Alpha is... charging... something," said Etrucsa, angling her head in confusion at the reading on he board. Suddenly, there was another flash on the holotank, this time centered on Contact-Alpha.

"EMP!" called Etrucsa, ripping her headset off as another burst of feedback squealed over the system. The dull thump of the massive primary-fuses blowing resonated through the deck-plating. For a brief second, the CIC was plunged into darkness until emergency lighting kicked in.

"Damage report," called Vyrnnus, feeling sick. If the primary fuses blew, it was doubtful if they had _anything_ left.

"Heavy damage to all electrical systems. Barriers are down, GUARDIAN is down, primary life support is down," said Etrusca, her voice hallow and dull as she read down the list, "We've lost motive power and passive sensors."

**Battlestar _Galactica_ (BS-75) CIC  
Tellurias system, Phi Theta nebula**

"_Freya _is away," called Durrant, "hostiles maneuvering to bracket us, but... they're sluggish."

"EMP from _Freya_'s jump must have hit them hard," said Harper, bracing himself as _Galactica_ jostled from enemy fire. Though this salvo was less accurate and potent then the last, _Galactica_ had just endured wave after wave of punishing barrage, her hull as stressed to the line.

Hackett nodded, "It gives us time. Hawkins, Land our birds, and Standby to retract the pods as soon as they're secure."

"Aye sir," said Hawkins, "All Vipers/_Galactica_, come on home. I say again, come on home."

Outside, the ragged furball of Vipers and alien fighter craft quickly disintegrated. The Vipers disengaged, while the alien planes tumbled aimlessly, their systems shorted by EMP and spatial distortions. But while the aliens' flightpath was aimless, the Vipers' was chaotic, as four dozen planes converged on _Galactica's _twin landing decks, all screaming along at full military thrust as they vied for positions.

"...Viper eleven-twelve aboard," called Durrant, "Viper eleven-oh-four aboard. All vipers are aboard."

"Retract the pods," said Hacket, "And switch main batteries to enemy suppression mode, execute."

"FTL spun up, jump co-ords locked in," said Durrant, his face flicking to the aviation status board, counting off the agonizing seconds while the flight-pods retracted and locked. "Flight pods locked, boards are green."

Hackett nodded, "Jump!"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_Well, the first skirmish of the First-contact war. The fanwank about the two cultures tech levels will be discussed in a later chapter. In the mean time, I'd be intrested to hear who you think came out worse in the scuffle.


	3. Chapter 3: After Action

**Turian Command Cruiser **_**Veritas, **_**Briefing room  
Forward Observation Base, fourth planet, Tellurias system, Phi Theta nebula**

The cylindrical chamber was deathly silent. None of the assembled command staff spoke as General Septimus Oraka slowly paced out the briefing room, his steely gaze seeming to cool the room by several degrees.

"Would someone like to explain to me," he said, struggling to keep his voice level, "how we just got our asses handed to us by a bunch of primitive?"

"Intel dropped the ball, sir," said Commander Vyrnnus, his voice a low growl, "and it cost me half my crew."

"We had no way of knowing their ships would be that tough," said Commander Kailar, crossing his arms defensively, "And that EMP... I've never even heard of a weapon like that."

"Regardless," said Oraka, silencing his two officers with a glance, "We have a job to do." He called up a holo of the two alien ships engaged with the cruiser force.

"High command any species that sends a fleet this powerful on a mere scouting mission needs to be dealt with." He folded his arms, starting to pace around the room, "Twelfth fleet under General Arterius is coming to reinforce us. Before they get here, we need to know who these people are, where they're from, and what that weapon was."

"I think I can help you with the last two," said a small, soft voice. Doctor Jarus Scentus stood up, a dataslate clutched in his scrawny talons.

"Doctor," said Oraka, yielding the floor to the xenotech expert, "You know what this weapon is?"

"I- I don't think it's a weapon," said Scentus, pulling up gun-camera footage from _Atticus_ of the battle. "Look, just as Contact-Bravo jumps in," he said, slowly going frame by frame through the recording.

"You see it?" he asked, arms outstretched as he stared at the assemblage of military men and women before him. "There," he said, thumbing to the frame before Contact-Bravo appeared.

"What is it, Doc," asked Commander Demtreva, raising one slender hand to adjust a field-dressing on her neck, "I don't see anything."

"Exactly, no incoming light trace, no blue-shifting, nothing," Scentus thumbed forward a few frames, "This ship just appears in space." He looked to his audience, mandibles flickering as if he had just announced something terribly profound.

"Spirits, a point-jump drive," said Kaliar, flicking one mandible in realization.

"What?" said Vyrnnus flatly, leaning back in his chair with his arms across his barrel chest.

"An obscure concept from the early days of space exploration, before we discovered the relays," said Scentus, "Tiny amounts of Element zero in a lattice of some sort. Theoretically, it allows for instantaneous transit between any two points."

"I thought those didn't work," said Demtreva, "'least that's what I heard."

"They did work," said Oraka, rising to his feet, "but we never learned how to control the jumps. A ship might move five light-years, or fifty meters, in any direction."

"That... and the stress of the jump would tear the ship apart," said Scentus, the scientist dipping his head absentmindedly, "but the test jumps _did_ show energy flashes similar to the ones _Atticus_ encountered."

"It seems this species figured made the drive work," said Oraka.

"That's why their ships are so tough," said Demtreva, "any ship strong enough to survive a point-jump would need to be..." she puffed her cheeks, moving her claws in inarticulate gestures of largeness, "ridiculously overbuilt."

Vyrnnus nodded slowly, "explains why they shrugged off our fire like it wasn't even there."

"We may have an edge," said Oraka, "if they jump, they jump blind. No ability to see their destination with only light-speed sensors."

"Yes," said Scentus, looking up from his dataslate, "Their jump range must be limited by how good their star-charts are, how powerful their nav computers are."

"Which is not very," interjected Kaliar, "At least based off what comms chatter we've analyzed."

"How does this help us?" asked Vyrnnus, his tone starting to edge into insubordination.

"It means they need forward bases," said Oraka, "and this planet is our best guess." The central holo changed to a grainy image of a planet. Blobs that were likely small installations were visible on the surface, as were low-resolution objects that might be warships.

"The asari starsearch probes found this planet a few weeks back," said Oraka, "We didn't think much of it at the time, as there were no eezo signatures worth mentioning, and the images were too poor to be sure those were ships, not rocks."

The General sighed, "But this is our most likely threat base. Once General Arterius arrives, we'll link up with his forces for the assault." He powered off the holo, and gave his commanders a long look, "Good hunting."

**Battlestar _Covenant_ (BS-119) TOC  
3rd fleet headquarters, Shanxi, Shadow system, Phi Theta nebula**

Admiral Jack Williams glowered over the backlit planning board that dominated _Covenant's _TOC. To his trained eye, the models strewn about, even at their ridiculously overstated scale, belied how woefully underpowered Shanxi's defenses were. It was a frontier post after all, a place from which to explore the universe, not a military anchorage.

It was hard enough defending an entire system with six battlestars, but now that_ Galactica_ was damaged and _Freya_ was almost beyond repair... there was nothing about this situation he liked. But at least the relay gave him one, tiny, tactical edge. Intel said the aliens would have to enter by that relay, as their FTL was too slow for inter-system travel.

But that relay was also critical to the evacuation of Shanxi. Fifty thousand colonists, and every one of them needed to fly though that needle. It was slow going, thirty minutes to load a transport, another ten to jump to the relay, then an hour and a half to get to Picon, offload, and jump back to Ragnar for the relay trip home. But even that was faster then the twenty jumps one-way it would take to get to Elysium, the nearest system with a relay to the Colonial home systems.

Drumming his hands on the planning board, Admiral Williams turned to a small video monitor. Grabbing the handset, he nodded at an NCO to activate the ground link.

A grainy, washed out image of a short, brown haired woman with a one-year old perched on her hip resolved itself. His wife and daughter. "Jack!" said the woman, her voice syncing poorly with the low frame-rate video, "how are you doing up there?"

"We're getting ready," said Williams. It wasn't a total lie, but it did imply that "ready" was an achievable status. "What about the evacuation?" he asked.

"Just a few more boats to go," said Gabriela Williams, rocking her hip to steady her child. Williams smiled. He'd considered ordering his wife to take the first boat out, but any married man knew the chain of command didn't work that way. Besides, while she might look small, Gabriela Williams had a spirit to rival Admiral Hammond himself. If anyone could get fifty-thousand colonists to drop everything and run, it was her.

"Look, Gabby," said William, seeing his wife purse her lips in mock anger at the nickname, "I know I haven't said this enough, but I love you-" his daughter gurgled something the mic didn't pick up "-you too Ashley." He smiled, dipping his head as a tear rolled down his craggy face, "Get off that rock alive."

"Honey, you know you can't order me around," beamed Gabriela, tossing off a mock salute regardless. "See you at Ragnar."

"See you too," said Williams, placing his hand on the tiny screen, "I love you. I love you both." The screen went back, a pulsing message informing him _Covenant _had passed out of the ground antenna's line of sight.

Snapping the handset back in its cradle, Admiral Williams pulled on his duty blue jacket, straightening any creases. It was time to go to war.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Well, a little bit of a relaxed breather chapter. Sorry it took so long to upload this, Admiral Williams' section was giving me trouble.

Also, so you may have noticed I'm numbering the ships as BS-## not BSG-## as in canon. That's because numbering a ship by what group it's in seems dumb to me. So, I name ships by hull-number. Shouldn't really affect anything, but it's here if you think I violated canon.


	4. Chapter 4: Hiatus

Hey, BSG Legacy here. Sorry to say this, but this fic is on indefinite hold. I wrote myself into a corner, and (due to lack of forethought and planning) am kind of stuck right now. Faced with a choice to let this fic wither and die, or pull a Bioware and half-ass the ending, I opted for the former.

That said, I really appreciate the interest in the story and the support I've got. I fully intend to continue this story, and to take it beyond simply the first-contact war. But... that will take time. I'll post notification in this fic as to when and were the new one will be up.

Anyway, thanks again for the intrest!


	5. Rebirth

All this has happened before, and all this must happen again. This time, with proper plotting.

Redux of this story available here, if anyone's still interested. s/8838066/1/Point-Shock


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